The Wrong Crime
by Cornelia May
Summary: Heyes and the Kid are accused for the murder of Tom Davis the banker in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Can Lydia, an old friend of Heyes', save them from loosing their amnesty. Had to repost, still my first fanfic. Read and review. :


**The ****Wrong ****Crime**

**Clermont, northern Wyoming-**

"Heyes, why is it so important that ya see this girl?" Curry asked as they rode into the town of Clermont.

"She owes me a favor," Heyes answered with simplicity.

"What kinda favor?"

"Got her out of a pinch before we took on this amnesty kick,"

"Well you gonna tell me who she is?"

"Gee, it's been nearly three years since I spoke of her and you forgot?"

"I fell asleep when you said her name, I remember being in Denver at the time,"

"Her name's Lydia-Ann Roberts," A smile came across Heyes' lips at her memory.

"Oh, _that _girl," Curry said when the name clicked.

As they rode by the general store, they saw a girl struggling to get a sack of flour into a waiting buck board wagon.

"Like some help ma'am?" Heyes asked, tipping the brim of his hat.

"Yes, thank you," Lydia answered, not realizing that Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry were helping her.

"Well, there y'are, ma'am," Curry said when the last of the supplies were loaded.

"How 'bout you boys follow me back to the farm, I'd be obliged if you'd stay for supper,"

"Alright," said Heyes. "Would you happen to know where Lydia-Ann Roberts lives?"

"You're looking at her, _Hannibal_ Heyes," Heyes grimaced at the mention of his first name, even though Lydia had taken care to whisper it.

Lydia's farm was about seven miles out side of Clermont. It took them almost two hours to get there. After unloading the wagon and unhitching the horses they went inside the little one story cabin.

"Fine piece of land ya got here, Lydia," Heyes said with admiration.

"I know this ain't no call, so ya might as well tell me what you want." Lydia replied.

"How did she-"

"It's called woman's intuition, Kid, besides, Heyes got me out of a little trouble and it's only right if I do the same."

"First I wanna know if yer married."

"I was…"

"What happened?"

"The man wasn't you, Heyes."

"Lydia, I'm sorr-"

"Don't waste your time feelin' sorry for me, either of ya; I've lasted two years workin' this land, I figure I can last more; so I owe you boys a favor, what do I need to do?"

"Well, robbin' banks and trains are a thing of the past for us,"

"There's a shock, what'd ya do?"

"We…uh…applied for amnesty, a little _over_ a _year_ ago."

"So, ya went straight, that's a real comforting thought, now I don't hafta worry 'bout ya bein' hanged."

"Well, that's kinda why we're here Lydia."

"Oh good Lord, Heyes…"

"We haven't killed a person in our lives, unless you count Kid havin' that show down with Danny Billson back last July, but being who we are, it is possible that we could be falsely accused of killing someone; and if I- I mean, we ever are we'd like you to be a character witness, whatever that is."

"And after all these years all I thought I ever meant to you boys was a safe house,"

**Three months later- Cheyenne, southeastern Wyoming-**

"Kid I'm glad they gave us adjoining cells,"

"Well I ain't,"

"Jed, I wanna know something,"

"What, Heyes?"

"How we got here, not in these cells here, but here."

"Can't answer that, Heyes,"

"Then I really hope Lydia soon gets here,"

"Why, even with a jury, we might swin-"

"I don't want to hear any more, Kid,"

Just then a girl wearing a lavender dress trimmed in violet lace entered the cell block. Her honey blond hair hung in ringlets from the bottom of a high made bun; her emerald-green eyes were blood shot, as if she had been crying for a while. By the look on her face, Heyes could tell that she was not ready for what she had to do.

"Heyes," the dark haired man looked up from reading a dime novel.

"Lydia, for a moment I thought my telegram didn't reach you in time,"

"I came as fast as I could, you know how bad the stage roads are from here to Clermont, and that's all I could afford, the farm's startin' to bottom out." Lydia dabs an eye with her handkerchief. "I expect that the other members of the Devil's Hole Gang know about this."

"Ain't sure, Wheat's dumb, but not dumb enough to come and try to bust us out, Kyle and Lobo, can't say much for them either." There was a hint of regret in Heyes' voice.

"Now I want both of you to be completely honest with me, did either you kill that banker?"

"Never saw the man in my life, I can't be more sincere then that,"

"Same as Heyes, Lydia,"

"If you both are found guilty and are- you know, what am I to do?"

"Clam our bodies and see that we get Christian funerals, but be for that beat our hangin'."

Heyes tensed hearing the tabooed word; usually he was the first to loose all hope; now that was all he had left.

"Yer time's up ma'am," a guard said.

"Best of luck to ya boys, I'll be near by."

Lydia walked out without a backwards glance. Yes, she did feel sorry for Heyes and the Kid, but she realized that the two of them had a really good chance of having their necks stretched. She quickly got that thought out of her mind; she would get them off if she had to die doing it. That night she dreamed about the first time she had met Heyes.

**Flashback- Three and a half years earlier, the Brown Palace Hotel- Denver, Colorado- **

Another chill ran through her, Hay Fever was never kind to her. A knock came upon her hotel room door.

"Who is it?" she asked

"Clerk asked me to check in on ya, may I come in?"

Lydia opened the door and the dark haired man with dark chocolate brown eyes entered. His mere presence seemed to take Lydia's breath away.

"So, you must be Ms. Roberts," he said, smiling a dimpled smile.

"Yes," she replied. "And you must be Hannibal Heyes, funny you don't look like an outlaw."

"How did you-"

"I figured that there was only one man in the whole state of Colorado that could convince a lone woman to open her door to a complete stranger."

"Well, my partner-"

"I'm guessing that would be Kid Curry,"

"Yeah, as I was saying, my partner and I are staying in room seven on the next floor, if you need anything just come on up."

"Thank you for the gesture, Mr. Heyes." Lydia shivered and then pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders.

"You feelin' alright?"

"Normal for this time of year, spring don't exactly agree with me."

"Well if you're feelin' up to it, would you accompany me to supper tomorrow evening?"

"Alright, I'll be there."

"I'll leave you then, good night ma'am."

"Good night Mr. Heyes."

**~End of Flashback~**

Lydia woke suddenly; she raised the wick of the oil lamp beside her on the night stand. The hanging grandfather clock on the wall read one-thirty a.m., she wanted to panic, but resolved that that wouldn't do anyone any good. In the dim light of the lamp she began to cry. She repeated a prayer over in her mind asking God to help free Heyes and the Kid, but she also knew that whatever happened was His will. She went down to the hotel's restaurant at six o'clock. After the abrupt wake up earlier she wasn't able to go back to sleep.

"You're up early Ms. Roberts," said Mrs. Landers, the hotel's cook.

"Didn't sleep well last night," Lydia answered.

"Why not?"

"I know the two … um… men that are… um... going on trial today."

"And I'm sorry that you do,"

"Why, even for _ex_-outlaws, I have to admit that they are pure gentlemen."

"Ex-outlaws ya say? These men killed a very prominent and well liked man in our community."

"'A well liked banker'; that sounds like a contradiction to me,"

"Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes, please that would be great."

Lydia drank her coffee in silence. She longed to board the next stage out of town, but she couldn't do that because she had given her word to Heyes that she would stick around.

**The Trial- 9:30a.m., the Cheyenne Courthouse-**

"All rise," the bailiff said. "Court is now in session, Judge Edward Mason presiding."

"Be seated," Judge Mason said. "Now, this is a very unusual case that is being tried here this mornin', the facts from the inquest yesterday are these: known outlaws Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry spent a few hours in the Palace Saloon on Tuesday night, drank some beers and played a few games of poker; later that same night, in that very same saloon Tom Davis was killed. Before I ask Heyes and Curry's character witness to assume the stand an actual witness to the crime has been found. Zeke, would you come forward and assume the stand."

"Raise your left hand and place your right hand on the Bible, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do," Zeke said.

"Zeke, please tell the court what you saw."

"Well, those two fellas were playin' a game of poker with a few ranch hands from the Lazy Y ranch, ol' Tom was standin' at the far end of the bar."

"Were Heyes and Curry wearing their guns?"

"No sir, which is odd for Kid Curry, but they seem to play an honest game of poker if'n ya ask me."

"Did you notice any other strangers come into the saloon that night?"

"Yes sir, 'bout an hour after them two left,"

"And where was Tom Davis?"

"He'd moved to a poker game at one of the middle tables,"

"Go on,"

"Well one of the strangers that had entered an hour after Heyes and Curry left introduced himself as Joe… Joe…Joe Fletcher, he was sitting to the left of Tom at that poker table, I'd say two hours had passed by since the accused left, then Joe started accusin' Tom of cheatin'."

"Did you hear any of the words that were exchanged between the two of them?"

"Yes sir, but they weren't fittin' for a lady's ears."

"I see, well, what happened next?"

"Joe shot Tom in the back as he was leavin', as most of you know he died yesterday evenin'."

"Well," said Judge Mason. "It seems that these two gentlemen are being tried for the wrong crime. However," Heyes turned to face Lydia, their eyes locked and they held a silent conversation. "However," Judge Mason repeated. "They are wanted for train and bank robberies all over this great state. I'm gonna let you two off this time, but if I ever see you in my courthouse again you both will get the twenty years that you should be getting', now git."

Lydia waited for Heyes and the Kid outside the courthouse. Much to her relief they had been let off and she still could not believe it.

"I do believe we are even," she said to Heyes as the three of them walked over to the train depot.

"I do believe you are right, Lydia," Heyes replied.

"Heyes can I ask a favor of you?"

"What?"

"Don't _ever_ ask me to come to come to another trial of yours, and I need a train fare back to Clermont."

"You owe me big time, Lydia," Heyes reluctantly handed her a twenty dollar gold piece. "Should be more then enough; just wire the change to Big Mac McCreedy in Red Rock, Texas when you get the chance."

The three parted ways. One went home while the other two went wherever the wind took them; their paths never to cross again.


End file.
